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Best Christine Phillips Poems

Below are the all-time best Christine Phillips poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Details | Christine Phillips Poem

From Dusk Till Dawn

                                              She got it for her wedding gift,
                                        but she dropped it when she fell off the cliff,
                                                it sank to the bottom of the ocean,
                                      and the excitement caused a great commotion.
 
                                                  From dusk till dawn
                                                they float on the ocean,
                                                    from dusk till dawn
                                              they were filled with emotions,
                                                      sunrise, sunset
                                                 and still nothing in their nets.
 
                                         They went deep sea fishing in a fishing boat,
                                        searching for the pearl in the Bivalvia's throat,
                                          with cracked lips and scorched backs,
                                                 they drift around the ocean,
                                                everyone with great devotion.
 
                                               Suddenly she bursts out in tears,
                                               and explains how it was so dear.
                                            They dived to the bottom of the ocean,
                                            floating back and forth in slow motion,
                                                   life at risk from shark attack,
                                                but she did not care about that.
                                                   They caught a hundred fish
                                            but still no sign of her priceless gift.
 
                                                When they went back to land
                                             she saw a clam moving in the sand
                                               she opened the little clam
                                           and her precious pearl fell right into her hand.
 


                                                  ©2013 Christine Phillips


Details | Christine Phillips Poem

Heartbeat

Morning dew dripping from my eyelids
doors banging at the center of my heart
as the symphony gets ready to start.
the flute begins with a champion song
while the listless crowd jeers merrily along.
brass, rhythm and base
my lips tremble with sadness,
and I could not escape this emptiness.
The sound increased,
but the pain did not cease.
Tump
thump
lub-dub
ba- bum
chanting sounds from the congo drums
reduced me to crumbs.
The violin ushers in,
and the vibrating trumpet sound begins
The chords get louder and louder
exploding emotions in the air,
leaving me cold,
empty and bare.
The manipulative trombone echoes through my ears,
and the deceiving guitar tune appears,
in one second  everything was said
and I scrambled hopelessly to my bed.
It rips up my innate passion
while they look upon me without compassion.
I waited for an answer
but he was entwined with the belly dancer.
The symphony increase,
every beat exposed
the daunting rhythm to my piercing soul.
they appear one by one,
raging without control
Tubo, trombone,
French horn and bassoon
harps ,tiako and bamboo flutes
made their speechless debut,
heartbeat telling me the truth.

©2013 Christine Phillips





Details | Christine Phillips Poem

Shattered by her past

Her childhood indelible painted upon her brain. She can still see the knife in her stepfather’s hand and her screaming mother pinned to the bed beneath him, and she knew her mom was dead, even before the last breath escaped her body. But for one brief moment their eyes met, and she could not erase the horror it has painted upon her brain. It was a seed that has grown into a tree. It is revenge.


He went home early that day to “butcher” his step daughter; she was only ten. When her mom returned from work, she was hiding under the bed, and blood was flowing down her legs. Her mom entered the room, and saw him lying on the bed; she fetched the kitchen knife and leaped towards him. They fought, and he stabbed her to death.Yet she cannot be convinced that her mom is dead. She still believes that her mom exists in her, and the doctor has mistakenly pronounced her dead.


 Leaving the bed soaked, dripping red, he bolted through the door, and a voice that was not her own screaming above her head. When last she heard of him, he was sentenced to be hanged, but she was in another world. She thought that God would come that day, but he didn’t and her mom has not risen.


                                                ©2013 Christine Phillips


Details | Christine Phillips Poem

The Break of Dawn

I woke up at the break of dawn,
with the feeling that all hope is gone,
I was not sure where to begin,
but I was determined to win.

No dazzling stars,
no visible  moonlight,
no chirping birds, 
to tease my empty words.

I walked through the door with a subtle grin,
nursing bruises all over my skin.
I tried to escape yesterday’s punishment,
and saturate my mind with hope and fulfillment.

Walking down the dark empty street,
a cab stopped  exactly at my feet,
I hired him to take me to the mountains,
to breath out the stagnant air
and repair my body’s wear and tear.

His grouchy voice thundered through my ears,
he spoke with a strange accent that I could hardly hear,
It passes through one ear, and suddenly it disappears.

We journeyed through sleeping towns,
they stared at us without a sound,	  
steep hills and rocky path,
bending streets and winding roads
dumping my burdensome loads.

He made a sudden turn,
and I felt a sensational yearn
spilling over in my soul.
Mother nature bursts from the horizon
and filled my heart with glad tidings.

Layers of mountains blink at me,
taking me up and down the gigantic tree
guiding me to my  unseen dreams,
while patches of green and sun burnt grass
prepare the city for the morning mass.

I saw her bursting through the thick grey clouds,
and I stopped the car and spoke to her aloud,
I climb on top of a nearby rock,
and reached towards her and interlock.
I was just in time for the meeting,
Oh how my soul yearns for this healing.

Mother nature looked at me with a grin
she shook my hand, 
and said, “where shall we begin?”
I lamented the troubles of my piercing heart,
and requested for a balance start.

What took you so long?
I know that you have been hurting all along,
and  I have been waiting for you to prove them wrong.
 
“Worry no more,
I am going to fulfill the desires of your burning soul,
look around and tell me what you see,
observe carefully and you will agree.

Let me ignite your body and soul, 
and sooth the sorrows  that you bore,
sleepless nights,
daily fights,
unfair treatment,
and treacherous  lies.

The meeting came to an end,
and I felt free again,
the peshmerga drove up the  steep hill
and greeted me with goodwill 
Dawn fully broke out into broad day light,
and filled my soul with joy and delight.

©2013 Christine Phillips




Details | Christine Phillips Poem

Green is Healing

At the end of the finishing line, 
a deep grouchy voice thunders in my ears
and said, “Welcome home”.
I stepped on the green carpeted grass 
and gazed at the slender bushy trees
waving peacefully in the hot summer breeze.
Happy squirrels scampering along
and merry birds singing happy songs.
But the moment swiftly fades and the 
tormenting sound of fire trucks sirens chimed in
Trash less garage truck put on masquerading scenes
and empty school buses appear on every corner
performing a deceptive drama. 
I gazed across the horizon and drowned out 
the intimidating sounds in America’s streets.
Instantaneously a hand touched me
I reached out and held on 
but surprisingly it disappears.
I held on tightly clinging to something that was not there.
Bequeathed by a mysterious will
my mind glides up a gigantic hill 
shades of wonders, throngs of danger
could not stopped god's destined will. 
With hand clasped and eyes closed
I whisper a prayer for my compelling soul.
I tried to detached but it kept coming back.
Something bigger than faith kept me going
more profound than hope itself 
It absorbs my innate being
and laden me with mystical dreams.
Weighing heavily upon throbbing heart
It was strong enough to melt my spiritual thoughts.
Thousand of them stand in the midst of the crowd
but only one I could make out.
That one gambled with my heart
Stretched my bone and pull my marrow apart
unmindful of the wounds it caused
smiling at me without an infinite thought.
most powerful and most worthy
Yet strong enough to rip up my aching heart.


                                                    ©2013 Christine Phillips            


Details | Christine Phillips Poem

Autumn Hope

Red leaves cowardly fall from trees like arrogant men
The powerful wind creeps up steadily scattering them on battered ground
While caretakers gather them into bags and empty them into garbage cans.

The giant trees still hold their composure waiting for the winter band
Autumn chills and winter spills engraved in the soul of every man
Telling us that life is entering another round and hope is still alive.

It has been a miserable year casting doubt and myriad fear
The summer season could not stand up to the parching sun
Events after events stirring up the summer heat but now autumn is here
Blowing away the evil dust making way for the winter crust.

I drove out in the wee hours of the morning and penetrated the clear blue sky
I saw millions of shining stars embedded in  the  dancing blue sky smiling merrily at me
And the cool autumn morning whispering songs of praise emitting sparkling delight.


I long to wake up to  the  day when the grumbling and contention will cease
The war will be completed and mankind will be at peace  
I longed for the day when families will reunite and communities will come together
I yearn for the day when countries will be delivered and enjoy lasting peace with their neighbors.  

The seasons embrace life’s abundance  
The seasons empowers pinnacles of hope
The seasons with its multitude of stars secured in the deep blue sky
And the red leaves scattered on the  ground is a testament
That autumn will bring new joy and stunning changes all around.


Details | Christine Phillips Poem

The Stricken Corridor

Fall tumbles relentlessly on our door steps
young winter birds inducing provoking sounds scamper in trees 
Watching winter crawling slowly under our feet.

The night rain wet the ground with sadness 
washing  away the environmental stench
purging the atmosphere of  its infectious dew
And  I could absorb fresh air in my lungs again. 

I fell into a deep sleep shortly after nine but woke up 
by my next door neighbor bustling activities.
Nice showers clean fresh air is the perfect night to
be drenched with sleep but instead I was on my knees.

An unknown burden overshadowed  me, disturbing my spirit
raising my curiosity, causing me to ponder over unknown mysteries
unexplainable matters that doesn't concern me, yet they troubled me.

I soaked myself in prayer seeking for a  plausible answer 
And after praying I fell asleep again; a sleep that 
I thought would be peaceful but here I am again
on an unannounced journey to the Far East.

I mysteriously found myself on a university campus in the Far East,
no paint, no color, everywhere was deserted, no one was around
except for dry leaves  spreading out on the troubled ground 
and dull trees astoundingly lingering in the autumn breeze.
I walked propitiously through the front door along a bare corridor 
in search of a toilet to ease my body pressure.

A desolated corridor whose hope seemed to be diminished with the passing of time
a million feet must have trodden upon it, feet in search of  freedom ,
feet looking for peace, proud feet, dirty feet, bloody feet, stubborn feet.
Feet looking for revenge and feet marching to the destiny of doom. 
I moved anxiously from door to door but every door that I opened I saw
Asian toilet embedded deeply in the ground and clean water flooding all around. 

I opened another door and found a western bath filled with clean water 
I kept walking along the corridor but all the Asian toilets were flood with water.
At the end of the corridor I found one that was completely  dry but there was no toilet inside except for PVC pipe fittings planted firmly in the ground.

I tread along the opposite side of the hallway still searching for  a toilet
but only rooms whose doors were removed  and leaning helplessly
in front of them occupy the other side of the stricken corridor.


I anxiously left the building and a slim young man in his early twenties 
wearing shaded glasses ran behind a reception area outside the campus ground
and pretended as if he was at work, but that was only a deception.

As I walked passed him he tried to reached out to me
He complained about someone who has treated him badly
and pointed to a friend who was instrumental in turning his life around.
A sizable crowd gather around him as he  illustrates his painful story.

He and his friend took me to the other side of the campus where 
a larger crowd of young people had gathered for a wedding
some were sitting under large beach umbrellas
While others congregate in groups all over the campus grounds.
I walked upon a platform  where the wedding ceremony
was about to  take place but daylight suddenly exploded in my face.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            ©2014 Christine Phillips


Details | Christine Phillips Poem

Fortitude

Oh earthy rock,
the savage man does not know,
neither does the learned understand
the secret to your existence.
You sit here, year after year
watching your adversaries screaming,
and swallowing their wrath.
You have aunthetic power,
I see you resisting their sharp arrows,
and when the competition comes your way,
you out-sing them with your song.
The floods tried to uproot you
the winds also failed,
the masses come upon you,
but none of them could prevail.
Oh solid rock, show me the way.

©2013 Christine Phillips


Details | Christine Phillips Poem

CRACK

Weep with me winter morning
Sing for me a solemn tune
Dance for me winter morning 
Tell me a story before noon

Crack
Crack
Bang

A crashing tree limb pulled me breathlessly from my freezing bed.
White morning stares viciously in my face, 
Lingering snow and rain turned everything into hardened ice.
Nude trees striped of their autumn leaves 
Perishes slowly under nature’s weight 

Crack
Crack
Bang

A laden tree branch lands on my neighbor’s van
Everything in sight has frozen to ice
Slipping and gliding and humming a tune I 
Broke the ice just before noon.


                                                               ©2013 Christine Phillips


Details | Christine Phillips Poem

Insight

If you know,
impart what you know.
Don't say that you know,
when you don't know.
It is beguiling to say that you don't know
when you know.
I tarry with you all night,
supposing that you know, 
and you really don't know
yet you tell me that you know


©2013 Christine Phillips


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